Beautiful Disaster
by thrufirewithoutaburn
Summary: All Jesse St. James wanted when he returned to Carmel High was another National Championship. But distractions have always had a way of finding Vocal Adrenaline's star performer...
1. Chapter 1

**Enjoy my story! It's my first Glee Fanfic! Please read and review!**

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The worst thing about attending a school run by show choir stars? Everything is a production. So, the humiliation of receiving a slushie to the face and having her only pair of shoes stolen (in the same day!) were not private humiliations. Of course not. Not if Vocal Adrenaline had their way.

To be fair, Delilah's day started out perfectly. She woke up on time; her father slept soundly on the couch by the time she got downstairs. The sun shined down on her as she rode her bike toward Carmel High. Arriving at school, Delilah smiled as she checked her watch. 7:15, it read. _Fifteen minutes,_ she thought to herself. Pleased to know she would have more than enough time to be prepared for class, the girl whistled to herself as she walked through Carmel's halls.

Bracing herself for the graffiti that, inevitably, the Vocal Adrenaline kids wrote on her locker over the course of the weekend, Delilah swallowed thickly. _Hope they have new insults this time, _she prayed, turning the corner. But, much to her shock, her locker was as clean as she left it on Friday. Groaning, she knew that mean they sabotaged the lock. Resigning herself to a detention for being unprepared for class, Delilah languidly spun the combination, knowing it wouldn't work. Shocked when the device sprung open on the first try, a laugh bubble to her lips. For once, things were going her way.

Grabbing her books from her locker and sticking them into her backpack, Delilah allowed herself to be optimistic for once. The girl pushed her way through the crowded hallways toward her World Philosophies and Religions class, smug with the knowledge that for the first time (possibly ever) she would arrive early for first period. But upon her arrival at M134, Delilah's sunny mood dissolved quickly as it came.

"Hey, loser," Sarah Cabot, lead soprano for Vocal Adrenaline, said, leaning against the door frame.

Delilah shrunk from confrontation with girls like Sarah Cabot. No good could come from a cat fight with the girls who ruled the school.

"Hi, Sarah," Delilah nearly whispered, fidgeting with the strap of her book bag.

The nervous girl took a step toward the door.

"You can't go in yet," Sarah said, looking at her nails.

Furrowing her eyebrows, Delilah let a look of confusion pass over her face.

"Why not?"

Sarah rolled her eyes as though everyone knew.

"We're studying Islam. No shoes. You have to leave them outside," she replied.

Delilah almost kicked herself for not knowing that. Though she couldn't remember Mr. Lynd telling her that, she sighed and slipped her Toms off, leaving them on the floor outside of the room. Appeased, Sarah stepped out of the door way with a sly smile.

"Have a good day," she purred before leaving Delilah alone in the classroom.

Nearly jumping when the door slammed behind her, Delilah took her seat in the front of the class, barefoot. Oblivious to the chuckles of students around her, she pulled her books out of her bag and dated her notes. Pen in hand, she doodled absent-mindedly on the borders of the lined paper, lost in her own thoughts.

"Delilah!"

The sharp voice of Mr. Lynd broke Delilah's reverie.

"Would you care to tell me why you aren't wearing shoes?"

The girl's head shot up as she looked around her. Every one had their shoes on. Not only that, but she saw the devious smirk stretch across Sarah Cabot's face as she high-fived the Vocal Adrenaline girl next to her. With a weak smile, she tried to make a joke.

"I thought it would help me study Islam better, sir."

Shaking his head, Mr. Lynd turned his back and faced the board.

"Islam is no laughing matter, Delilah. I know you are Jewish, but-"

Delilah tuned him out as he segued into their day's lesson. Stifling the urge to cry and scream at the same time, the girl closed her eyes and counted to ten. Slowly, she felt the need to punch a wall subside. However, frustration took it's place. When the bell rang, she struggled to catch up with Sarah Cabot and her possy of cronies.

"Give them back," she said, not afraid of confrontation at this point.

Sarah shot her an oh-so innocent look.

"Whatever could you mean?"

Attempting to level with the girl, she nearly begged.

"C'mon, Sarah. You know those are the only shoes I own."

In an essay for their AP English, Delilah revealed that little fact, thinking only Mrs. Maples would read it. Big mistake. Peer editing was the bane of Delilah's existence.

"I don't have them. Looks like you'll just have to buy another pair, won't you?"

Another mistake? Including in the essay that her father forbade her from buying anything for herself due to their significant lack of funds.

"Girls!" A voice shouted from down the hall.

Jesse St. James strutted toward the pack of girls, a severe look covering his features.

"You are not missing rehearsals because you got a detention for tardiness. Go to class. Ms. Corcoran would be appalled to hear about this, wouldn't she?"

At the mention of their coach's name, the Vocal Adrenaline girls scattered, leaving Delilah alone with the star of their club. He approached her quietly, as if afraid of scaring her off.

"Are you Delilah Puckerman?" He asked, terrified of calling her by the wrong name.

Delilah looked up.

"Yes," she responded simply.

Jesse tried to push down the feelings that bubbled inside him as he watched her fight back tears.

"Why don't you get to class?" he offered gently, lightly patting her on the back.

Mortified that he saw her losing her composure, she blinked back tears and looked at him.

"Of course. I'm sorry. Rough morning," she said, putting on a brave face and walking away without another word.

Watching her go, Jesse chuckled.

"And you might want to put some shoes on," he called after her.

Smirking, she shot back,

"Dully noted."

Walking away, her face blushing red, Delilah resigned herself to a perfectly awful day.

And an awful day it was. After spending the first half of her day barefoot, another beautiful addition to her wardrobe came along. Walking from her Art class to Health, a loud voice boomed through the hallway.

"Delilah!" It shouted.

Closing her eyes and sighing, Delilah turned to face her assailant. Joey DiMartino, Jesse St. James' wing man. Every pair of eyes in the hallway turned toward the girl. He smiled amiably at her, feigning friendliness.

"You look beautiful."

Delilah knew what came next.

"But I think you're missing some thing. How about a little splash of purple?"

The girl didn't even try to block the slushie from hitting her face.

"Catch you later, kid," he said, enjoying the sound of laughter coming from every person in the room but the one he covered in slushie.

Using her hand to wipe the excess grape drink from her face, Delilah sighed. The bell for class rang, but Delilah moved toward the bathroom instead.

"Don't be late for class!" Some teacher called out to her.

Ignoring them, Delilah walked into the bathroom. Grabbing up paper towels, Delilah washed her face off, trying to free herself of the sticky feeling that covered her.

"Perfect day," she muttered to herself, almost laughing at how naïve she had been when she got to school that morning.

Was it to much to ask for things to go easily?

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**What did you think? Please review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all so much for your support! It means so much to me! Please enjoy this chapter! (Don't worry if Delilah seems a bit Mary-Sue at first. She won't be. I've already written almost half of this story. :) Please read and review!

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That afternoon, after what seemed like an eternity, Delilah made the long walk from the detention hall to her bike. Groaning with each step, the girl tried to ignore the pain of the gravel cutting into her bare feet. Dwarfed by the row of Vocal Adrenaline Range Rovers that surrounded it, Delilah's nearly broken down motorcycle waited for her in it's normal parking spot. Smiling in relief, the girl walked a little faster toward it, overjoyed to know that she was so close to home.

"Well, if it isn't my favorite kid sister."

Delilah's heart sunk at the sound of a someone coming up behind she continued to walk toward her bike.

"You aren't going to say hello to your studly brother?" The voice continued.

Ignoring him in the hope that he would disappear, Delilah hurried away from him. A hand finally grabbed her shoulder and spun her around.

"C'mon, sis."

Locking her jaw, Delilah stared at her brother.

"Noah Puckerman, I have no patience for you today."

Smirking at his little sister, he ran his clenched fist over her chin, mockingly punching her.

"Don't be silly. You always have patience for me."

The girl rolled her eyes and tried to walk away from him, only to have the boy grab her wrist.

"What do you want?" she snapped, nearly screaming.

Puck stepped back, shocked at her outburst.

"What crawled up your ass and died?" Puck asked.

Running a hand through her hair, Delilah sighed.

"Nothing. I had a long day."

Her brother laughed.

"I'll say."

She cocked her eyebrow at him.

"What do you mean by that?"

Pointing at her feet, Puck snidely chuckled.

"Your latest sexual conquest take your shoes?" he asked.

Resisting the urge to punch her brother in the face, Delilah sarcastically retorted.

"No, I'm not the sex God. That's you."

He threw an arm over her shoulder.

"Give yourself some credit. It's a family trait, sis."

Shrugging him off, she laughed as she rolled her eyes.

"But seriously," she began, looking at her brother, "What do you want?"

Puck threw his arms in the air.

"Can't a big brother just come and visit his little sister?" he asked, scrutinizing his sister.

She shook her head at him.

"Not when that brother hasn't seen said sister in four months."

He shrugged.

"I've been busy. You know how I roll. The female population of Lima demands my attention."

She checked her watch. Her dad would be getting home from work soon.

"You have ten seconds to tell me why you're here."

Scoffing at her admonishment, he asked,

"Do you know how to have fun?"

She checked her watch again.

"Seven seconds."

He sighed and dug in his backpack for something. Handing her a manila envelope, he tried to play it cool.

"Nothing serious. Mom just wanted-"

She cut him off.

"I can read, thanks."

Skimming the contents of the package, Delilah felt her heart sink to her feet as her day went from awful to Hell.

"Mom wants more money from Dad?" she asked, furrowing her brows.

Puck nodded, keeping his cool. Handing the envelope back to him, she shook her head.

"We can't."

One eyebrow cocked, Puck tilted his head and pushed the papers back toward her.

"You don't want to help mom?"

Giving him a scowl, Delilah admonished him with her eyes.

"That was low."

A long moment passed between the two of them.

"You wanna come live with mom and me?" he asked with a smile, knowing her answer before she even spoke.

She shook her head, smiling to herself.

"You know the old man needs me."

Puck nodded, but became concerned.

"You're gonna take care of this, right?"

Delilah looked at him, shocked.

"You think I've got this kind of money?"

Giving her a look that told her that was exactly what he thought, Puck nodded.

"You are so dumb," she muttered, casually attempting to slap the side of his head.

He ducked.

"Don't mess with the head. I'm just starting to grow my Mohawk back," he argued.

She rolled her eyes and sadly laughed at her brother.

"I can't take these to him, Puck," she said, holding the envelope out to him.

Puck tried to give his dad the benefit of the doubt, though he knew the man didn't deserve it.

"He wouldn't hurt you for something mom did."

Delilah quirked her eyebrow at him.

"Look, I know he tried before but-"

The girl cut him off, refusing to relive that particular memory.

"He can't pay it. He spends all of his money on booze and chicks. You know that," she said simply with a small smile.

Frustrated, Puck ran a hand over his short hair.

"Then you're just gonna have to find a way to pay it!" he snapped, shouting at her.

A smooth, calm voice cut in.

"Is everything alright?"

Puck looked over his sister's shoulder and locked eyes with Jesse St. James. Recognizing the voice, his sister attempted to handle the situation.

"Not that you care, but yes," Delilah said, cutting off her brother before he could say anything rude.

She turned to face him. Bewildered at her rudeness, Jesse looked at her.

"I'm sorry-" he began.

She cut him off.

"I would much more inclined to believe that if you hadn't let them keep my shoes and give me a slurpie shower today."

Sliding in, Puck smiled.

"You glad to be back where you belong, fag?" Puck asked Jesse.

Slapping her brother on the back for his crudity, Delilah couldn't help but apologize.

"I'm sorry about him. He has no filter."

Jesse shrugged and smiled, remembering his time at McKinely.

"I know."

Digging in his backpack, Jesse listened to the sound of her and her brother banter quietly. With a smile, he pulled a thin pair of shoes bound by a large rubber band out of his pack.

"I believe these are yours," he said, still smiling.

Not sure if Puck would allow him within a foot of Delilah, he tossed them to her. Lithely, she caught the shoes, allowing a smile to crawl across her face when she realized they were hers.

"Thanks," she muttered tentatively, confusion filling her eyes.

He waved her gratitude off.

"Don't worry about it. See you tomorrow."

Glad to see her smile for once, Jesse got in his car and drove off.

"What the hell was that?" Puck asked when the Range Rover was out of sight.

Confused as he was, Delilah shook her head.

"No idea."

Looking at her, he raised an eyebrow.

"I thought they hated you."

Shaking her head again as though to clear it, she walked toward her bike.

"They do."

Puck called after her.

"You're going to fix this crap with mom, right?"

With a groan, she nodded.

"Don't I always fix this crap?"

He nodded and smirked. Waving to him, she mounted her bike and took off, leaving her brother behind.

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**What do you think? Please review! :)**


	3. Chapter 3

**Thank you all so much for your reviews! Please keep it up! I just found the complete list of Vocal Adrenaline characters from the Glee producers, so I'm going to be incorporating them a bit more. :) Please enjoy! Read and review!**

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Delilah sighed as she pulled her motorcycle up to the house. Her father's car sat in the driveway, and the girl felt her heart skip a beat. He hated for her to be late. Shouldering her bag and walking into the house, she steeled herself for the worst. She thanked God that the first aid kit was stocked. Delilah's father had only hit her a handful of times in her life, but his threats never ceased, and Delilah was nothing if not prepared. Gathering up her courage, she stepped into her house.

"Daddy?" she called tentatively, looking around the front hallway for him.

No response.

"Daddy?"

Again, she received no response. Entering the kitchen, she put her backpack on the floor and groaned. The girl prayed that her father wasn't at the bar again. She wasn't sure after the day she had that she could deal with him completely wasted. Picking an apple off of the counter, she walked into the den, ready to put her feet up after her hell of a day. But she merely rolled her eyes when she caught sight of the room. Her father lay, still passed out, on the couch. He had slept the entire day through.

"Monster hangover," she muttered to herself.

Going to the kitchen, she placed her apple back on the counter. Delilah pulled the aspirin from the cabinet and filled a glass with water. The girl returned to the living room and set them both on the couch-side table. As routine dictated, she went to the closet and picked out a soft blanket before laying it over her dad, assuring that he wouldn't be uncomfortable. Though she tried not to smile at her fortune, Delilah did allow herself a moment of happiness. One more night without her father. One more night of peace.

"G'night, Daddy," she whispered, kissing him on the forehead and walking up the stairs to her bedroom.

Kicking off her shoes and shrugging off her jacket, Delilah smiled at the prospect of a long night's sleep. Sighing, she threw her body onto the bed. Her eyes slid closed, and she felt herself begin to doze off.

"Delilah Mae Puckerman!" a deep voice called from the living room.

She ignored it, praying it was only part of her dream.

"Delilah Mae Puckerman! You will come down here!"

It wasn't a dream. It was very, very real. Fighting a groan, she forced herself out of bed.

"Coming, daddy."

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Jesse St. James nearly screamed in frustration as he stormed through the halls of Carmel High. Two days ago, he could not have cared less about this girl. But now, he spent nearly his entire morning searching for the damn woman. He found no trace of her. Jesse wanted to ask if she had any friends at all; no one knew who she was, much less where she was. But finally, after four hours of searching, he found a lead. Audra Griffis- fellow Vocal Adrenaline performer- walked down the hall, carrying a large paint can. Jesse could only assume that a girl like Audra carrying a large bucket of blue paint could only mean trouble for a girl like Delilah.

"Hey Jesse!" she said, smiling as she passed him.

He would not let her get away so easily.

"Not so fast," he said.

Catching her arm, Jesse pulled her back to face him.

"Where is Puckerman?" he asked.

Audra shrugged, trying to slyly hold the paint can behind her back.

"Never heard of her."

She tried to walk away, but he held his hand out to block her path.

"Delilah Puckerman. You and Sarah stole her shoes yesterday."

Feigning realization, the girl nodded.

"Oh, _that _Delilah Puckerman."

Nodding, the boy smiled.

"Yes. _That _Delilah Puckerman. Now, where is she?"

Her eyes refused to meet Jesse's.

"No idea."

She began, once more, to walk away from him, but his words stopped her in her tracks.

"Do you want Ms. Corcoran to hear about those rehearsals you skipped when she went out of town for the costume expo?"

The girl's eyes went wide as she turned back to him.

"I didn't miss a single rehearsal!"

Jesse smirked.

"She doesn't know that."

Audra narrowed her eyes at him.

"You would never."

He quirked his eyebrow.

"Wouldn't I? I've got a meeting with her in five minutes."

Shrugging, she tried to blow off his confidence.

"Ms. Corcoran would never believe it. I have perfect attendance."

Leaning in toward the girl, his smirk grew.

"You really think that she would believe your word over mine?"

Watching realization dawn in Audra's eyes, he held his hand out. Waving his fingers, he gestured for her to give over the jar she held behind her back. With a long sigh and eye roll, she handed him the can of bright blue paint.

"Now, where is she?" Jesse asked, as though talking to a dog.

Putting her right hand on her hip, she pointed straight down the hall with her left.

"M156. Advanced Math. Back row."

Nodding with the smug smile of someone who always gets his way, Jesse carried the paint with him toward the classroom. Entering, he placed the can on the floor and let his eyes scan the nearly empty room. There, just as Audra said she would, sat Delilah. Or, rather, slept Delilah. Flopped out over her desk, the girl peacefully rested. A chuckle escaped his lips. He stepped over toward her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder.

"Delilah?" he muttered in her ear.

Her head shot up.

"I'm awake! I'm awake!" she muttered frantically.

She rubbed her eyes and looked up at the boy. Almost immediately, she threw her head back down on the desk.

"Why do you keep doing this?" she nearly groaned.

He smiled down at her, trying to ignore the small bruise that hugged her cheek.

"You have a meeting with Ms. Corcoran. I told her I would come get you."

Delilah slowly craned her neck to look at him; her eyebrow moved skyward in the famous Puckerman style.

"Excuse me?"

Jesse nodded, smiling down at her.

"You heard me."

She made no effort to move.

"C'mon. You're already late," he said, smiling despite her resistance.

Reaching down, he grabbed her hand and pulled her to her feet. Delilah yanked it away the second she stood on her own.

"I don't understand-" she started, only to be cut off.

The boy shouldered her bag and began to walk out of the door with it.

"You don't have to understand," he said simply.

Looking after him with wide eyes, she stood still, glued to the floor. Just before he re-entered the busy Carmel High hallways, he turned and looked back at her.

"You coming?" He asked, smiling.

After a moment of debate, she shrugged. What did she have to lose?

"Whatever."

She walked forward to meet him, but something caught her eye.

"What's the paint for?" she asked, pointing at the bucket that sat on the floor.

He shook his head and shrugged.

"No idea."

Delilah shrugged too and, with that, the two began their walk toward Ms. Corcoran's office.

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**What do you think? Why does Ms. Corcoran want to talk to Delilah? Why is Jesse being the way he is? Let me know in a review!**


	4. Chapter 4

**Updates/favoriting are great, but I'd love reviews! Please read and review!**

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Jesse led the girl down the hall, carrying her bag with him. As they usually did, the masses parted when he passed. But this time, they watched with acute fascination as someone followed closely behind him. Delilah, head down, scurried behind the boy, praying that the Vocal Adrenaline crowd had not seen them.

She could not imagine the ridicule that being so close to the boy would get her. Eyes nervously dashing about, she looked for his friends, fearing he was leading her into a trap. Jesse stole a glance behind him every few seconds, just to make sure his charge had not run off. His smile grew a bit every time he realized she still followed him.

"Just this way," he said, holding the door for the theater open.

Delilah walked in, quietly thanking him as she went. He jumped in front of her, letting the door close behind him, and nearly ran through the theater. The girl almost felt the corners of her lips tilting upward. He seemed so free, so in his element. A large smile covered his face, and a light danced in his eyes. She merely watched him as he climbed up on stage. His eyes met Delilah's and he beamed the moment he saw her.

"Are you just going to stand there?" he asked, chuckling at the girl's apprehensiveness.

She shook her head and followed his route up to the stage. Leading her back through the wings, they eventually met a door marked "green room." Jesse knocked, rapping his knuckles on the door.

"Come in," a voice spoke, only just loud enough for Jesse and Delilah to hear through the door.

Pushing his way through the threshold, the show choir's star waved the girl in. Ms. Corcoran smiled up at the two of them from her perch on an expensive-looking sofa.

"Took you long enough, Jesse." she said, scolding the boy gently.

He shrugged.

"She's a hard girl to catch up with, Ms. Corcoran."

With a smile, the woman motioned to two chairs across from her. Jesse plopped into a seat and helped himself to a glass of water, while the girl merely stood, staring.

"So, you are Delilah Puckerman?" The woman asked, looking at the newcomer.

Tentatively, the girl nodded.

"You can sit, Lilah," Jesse said, smiling up at her.

Several things tipped Delilah off that something was not right. One: the director and star of Vocal Adrenaline called her into their office for a meeting. Not normal. Two: one of said leaders, namely one Jesse St. James, just called her Lilah. A nickname. Definitely not normal. Three: It was nearly lunchtime and she had not been assaulted by one member of their show choir all day. Obviously, something was not right with the world.

Shrinking into the chair next to Jesse, Delilah attempted a smile. Butterflies danced through her stomach as she waited for the two to get on with the meeting. Ms. Corcoran leaned up to the table that sat in between the two teenagers and herself, grabbing the pitcher of water and a glass.

"Winner's Water?" she offered.

Delilah furrowed her eyebrows in confusion.

"What's Winner's Water?" she asked.

Jesse chuckled and finished off his glass in a single gulp.

"Filtered water, ground organic lemon, ground organic cucumber, a touch of honey and cayenne peppers, and crushed up Vitamin B tablets."

Attempting to hide her disgust, Delilah smiled and politely refused.

"Suit yourself. More for me," Jesse muttered sarcastically, grimacing as Ms. Corcoran poured him another glass.

Handing her star the drink, she scoffed at him.

"That water keeps you healthy enough to perform. You should be thanking me for making you drink that," she said, sternly.

She turned to Delilah, softening.

"All of my performers have to drink a gallon and a half of this a day. It is the perfect combination to keep their entire bodies prepared for being on stage."

Drawing in a deep breath and slapping on a smile, she changed the subject.

"So, I've been told that you need a job."

The boy let a laugh burst from him, nearly spilling his water all over his clothes.

"Do you have any tact at all, Ms. Corcoran?" he asked.

Dismissing his comment with a wave of her hand, she refused to take her eyes off of the girl. Delilah looked at Jesse.

"How did you-?"

He shrugged.

"I heard you and your brother talking yesterday and I-"

She cut him off.

"So you were eavesdropping?"

An incredulous laugh coming from his lips, he shook his head.

"I wouldn't exactly call it that-"

Ms. Corcoran broke their verbal spar up.

"May I continue?"

The boy and girl both dropped their heads and muttered apologies.

"You should be sorry."

Looking up for the briefest moment, Jesse rolled his eyes at his director.

"Now, Delilah. Do you need a job?"

Releasing a long sigh and knowing she had no way to weasel her way out of this question, she nodded.

"Yes m'am."

Clapping her hands together, delightedly, the woman beamed.

"Great! When can you start?"

Taken aback, Delilah looked between Jesse and Ms. Corcoran.

"What?" she asked.

The woman fought the urge to roll her eyes, and settled instead for a long, drawn out sigh.

"You need a job. We could really use a hand around the rehearsal studio and the theater. Cleaning, washing costumes, taking phones calls, working the door at our events, and the like. Jesse put in a good word for you, and a lovely booster of ours has agreed to pay your salary. I don't see the question," she deadpanned.

Resisting the urge to bang her head against the table, Delilah gulped painfully. Taking the job would not only mean more time with the show choir kids, but-possibly worse- it would mean more time around Jesse.

"It's a great offer, Ms. Corcoran, but-"

The woman looked at the boy across from her..

"Convince her," she urged.

He shifted his gaze to the girl next to him.

"Look, I know what you're thinking. But this could be great for you, Lilah-"

She gave him a sharp look.

"Don't call me that."

Jesse continued, unperturbed.

"This could stop them from doing what they do to you."

A long, silent pause spread through the room.

"I won't take no for an answer," Shelby offered.

Drawing in a sigh, the girl looked up.

"How long do I have to think about it?"

Shaking her head, almost in disappointment, the woman shrugged.

"I don't know. A day?"

Delilah nodded and stood.

"May I go then?"

The woman nodded at her.

"I'll see you back here tomorrow morning."

Knowing there would be no argument, Delilah thanked her for her time and walked out.

"Lilah-"

She spun around to look at him.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked, thin annoyance bubbling under true curiosity.

Jesse smiled and walked closer to her.

"Because I want to help. Why won't you let me help you?" He shot back.

She almost started laughing.

"Because I know what this is really about. Are you all getting tired of throwing slushies on me and stealing my shoes?"

Locking eyes with her, he closed the gap between the two of them so they almost touched. Holding her ground, she refused to let him back her up.

"You really think that is what this is? A joke?" he asked.

Delilah leaned in and kept his gaze.

"I _know _that that is what this is."

He sighed and stepped backward. For a moment, he pinched the bridge of his nose and breathed deeply. Finally, he raised his head.

"At least think about it. A month's work could pay you more than you would know what to do with. I'm sure it would take care of whatever your mom-"

Snapping, she turned toward him.

"Don't talk about things you know nothing about."

Holding up his hands to show he meant no harm, he nodded.

"Fair enough."

Striding across the stage and snatching her book bag from his hand, she kept her head held high.

"Working for Vocal Adrenaline is the last thing I would ever want to do."

But, as she stormed through the theater to the exit, she knew she would take the job anyway.

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	5. Chapter 5

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Sure enough, the next morning, after first period, she entered Ms. Corcoran's office, happy to see her sitting and waiting for her.

"There you are," the woman said, looking from her computer screen to Delilah.

The girl smiled back.

"Yes m'am."

The older woman gave her a secretive smile.

"Somehow I knew you would be back."

Flicking her hand, Shelby motioned for the girl to sit across from her.

"Just give me one minute."

The woman finished typing an email as Delilah looked around the room, taking it in. Trophies and ribbons lined the walls; a glass case behind Ms. Corcoran's desk held their last National Championship trophy. Pictures dominated every other surface. Each one, save the picture of Vocal Adrenaline in Times Square that sat in the trophy case, showed the woman and a small child. Seeing the girl stare at the photos made Shelby smile. A twinkle appeared in her eyes.

"That's my daughter. Her name is Beth."

Looking from photo to photo, Delilah nodded.

"She's beautiful."

Shelby agreed unashamedly.

"Yes. She is."

Noting the time, the director nearly jumped.

"Damn. We've gotta make this quick."

She pulled a clip board and pen from a drawer before looking up at the girl. The conversation flowed rapidly.

"Can you answer phones?"

A nod came from Delilah; Shelby made a note on her paper.

"Can you clean?"

"Is that even a question, Ms. Corcoran?"

The woman scribbled and continued throwing questions.

"Can you cook?"

Delilah almost laughed at the question; Ms. Corcoran thought she was confused.

"Rehearsals run late sometimes and my performers need to be properly fed. Can you cook?"

She nodded.

"Yes m'am."

"Can you work a computer?"

The girl merely shot the director a look.

"Great. Can you sew?"

"Of course," the young girl said.

A smile ghosting across her face, Shelby ripped a page off of her yellow legal pad and handed it to Delilah.

"Be here at two-thirty. Here's your to-do list."

Thanking the woman one last time, Delilah walked out and began to read her afternoon's activities.

_**D-**_

_**Here's what you need to do today:**_

_**1. Organize sheet music from the studio into the boxes I've marked. **_

_**2. Prepare six gallons of W.W. Recipe is on the fridge.**_

_**3. Floors of the studio must be scrubbed before rehearsals in the morning.**_

_**Thank you for your help. **_

_**-SC**_

* * *

At two-thirty sharp, the girl arrived and set to work. After blowing through the first two items on her list, she entered Vocal Adrenaline's rehearsal space and began.

Three hours later, Delilah hummed to herself as she tore away at the studio floor. Her rag moved across every inch of the hardwood surface, and she worked to get every spot of dirt off. Cheering herself on mentally, she groaned out loud when she saw the amount of floor left. Almost a third of the studio still needed a proper scrubbing.

"Hey," a voice said from behind her.

Halting her work, she looked over her shoulder at the boy. He casually lounged on the piano bench, smiling down at her. His arms behind his head, he leaned back against the instrument casually. Rolling her eyes, she turned back to her work.

"Well, isn't that a nice greeting?" Jesse asked, sarcasm marring his tone.

The boy chuckled as he looked over the newly cleaned floor toward her.

"I didn't see you this morning in Ms. Corcoran's office."

She continued to scrub.

"So, I figured that you hadn't taken the job and I was getting worried because-"

Continuing to scrub the floor with all her might, she deadpanned,

"Please stop talking to me."

Jesse sat up from his stretched out position.

"Why?"

He watched in the mirrors that lined the walls as she rolled her eyes.

"Because I have no interest in speaking to you. Not to mention that I have work to do. Don't you rehearse until-"

Chuckling, the boy cut her off.

"Midnight?"

She nodded.

"That's urban legend, actually. Well, it's mostly urban legend. We only rehearse as long as we have to. Ms. Corcoran let us out early tonight because our last run was near perfection. So, I thought I'd come pester you," he finished with a smile.

Leaning back against the piano, Jesse watched as she continued to ignore him.

"Alright," he began, making himself comfortable, "I can talk all night if you don't want to."

He saw her pretend she didn't care as she dunked and wrung out the dishrag before slapping it back on the wood floor.

"I talked to Ms. Corcoran this afternoon during my off hour. We've decided to call you Vocal Adrenaline's manager," he said, excited as though it was a wonderful honor.

Delilah shrugged, not really caring a lick what they called her.

"We want you to come on the road with the club when we go to The Expo and then Nationals next month."

Fighting the urge to ask what The Expo was, she focused on a single, stubborn scuff mark that marred the wood floor.

"You really aren't going to talk to me?" he asked.

His answer came in her lack of reply.

"I see," he muttered to himself.

For a few blissful moments, the room went silent until Delilah heard the door open and close. She smirked, partly happy to know that she had run him off. She whistled to herself. Caught up in her own thoughts, she didn't hear the door open and close once more.

The girl didn't realize Jesse had re-entered the room until he plopped down next to her. The sleeves of his neon purple button up shirt were rolled up to his elbows, and he replaced his black pants with a pair of black basketball shorts. On his knees, he dunked a rag in the bucket of water before throwing it on the floor and scrubbing. Wide eyes, she turned to him.

"What are you doing?"

He smirked.

"Helping you."

She opened to her mouth, but he merely put his index finger over it.

"Just let me. I've already changed."

Taking his hand away from her lips, he took up his rag and began cleaning once more. Gritting her teeth and resigning herself, she followed his lead and went back to her task. She allowed Jesse to hum quietly as they worked. She found she didn't mind so much. And, with the extra set of hands, the room was spotless in no time. Standing, the two marveled at their handiwork. She turned and looked at him.

"Thank you," she muttered, looking down at her feet suddenly.

Smiling, he used the pads of his fingers to tilt her head back up. Light danced in his eyes.

"Any time," he responded.

A moment passed, her eyes locked with his. But she broke it off, looking away with a cough.

"I need to get home," she said, bringing herself back to earth.

Taking a step away from him, Delilah gave a half wave. He gently curled his fingers around her wrist. Tugging her gently, he pulled her back toward him.

"What are you doing on Friday?"

He felt her bristle in his grasp.

"Why?" she asked, her eyes becoming suspicious.

Jesse smiled.

"There's a party, and I thought-"

She cocked her eyebrow.

"Let me guess. It will be all Vocal Adrenaline cronies there and it'll be at one of your houses."

Shrugging, he nodded.

"But that shouldn't keep you from-"

Holding up a hand to stop his talking, she gave him a look.

"Do you think they would miss a chance to make me look bad?"

He didn't speak.

"Or are you in on it?"

Taken back, he shook his head.

"No! I would never!" he exclaimed.

Shaking her head, she chuckled.

"Of course you wouldn't."

His eyes burned into hers, and after a beat, he nearly begged.

"So, will you come with me?"

She quirked her eyebrow.

"Not to a party filled with Vocal Adrenaline flunkies."

Without skipping a beat, Jesse cut in.

"Then we won't go to the party. We can go do something else."

Sighing, she looked up at him.

"I don't know if I can. I may have to work and-"

She didn't want to tell him that her father needed the most care on Friday nights.

"I'll talk to Ms. Corcoran and get you off. We can go out and get some-"

Delilah slapped a hand over his mouth.

"Shut up."

Pulling away from him, she let the smile slip from her face.

"I'll think about it."

Jesse watched as she tried to walk away. Grabbing her by the wrist once more, he looked her in the eye.

"Thank you for letting me help you," he said, holding her in place.

She shook her head, but he refused to let her speak.

"I wish you would let me do it more often."

His free hand, without him consciously bidding it to do so, ghosted it's way up to her cheek. His fingertips brushed over the bruise there. His cool touch woke her senses.

"Where did you get this?" he asked.

She didn't respond.

"Was it your brother?"

Pulling away, she shot him a confused look. He scoffed at her.

"No one drives three hours from Lima to just hand someone some papers."

Delilah couldn't help it. She doubled over laughing.

"What?" he asked incredulously.

For a moment, she beat down her laughter enough to speak.

"No. It wasn't my brother."

He reached for her again, concern etched in his features. She spun out of his reach.

"It definitely was not my brother. Don't worry."

Jesse grabbed her by the shoulders.

"Who, then?"

Still laughing, she waved his concern off

"I've got to go."

Before he could say anything else, she jetted from the room, leaving the boy behind.

"Goodnight, Lilah," he muttered to himself, shaking his head.

* * *

So...? What did you think? Please read and review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Yes! Too long of a wait and too short a chapter! I know! I"m sorry! My reviewers are amazing and important to me. If you don't review, I can't say that of you!**

By Thursday afternoon's rehearsal, Jesse assumed he had given Delilah more than enough time to make up her mind. So, when the girl entered their rehearsal to speak with Ms. Corcoran, he leapt from the stage and walked toward them.

"Hey, Lilah-"

She spared him a glance before turning back to Ms. Corcoran, ignoring the boy's presence all together.

"I think that's all I wanted to talk to you about, m'am. I just wanted to make sure you wanted the Aubergine sequins instead of the Thistle ones. Thank you."

With a smile and a wave, she spun and walked away from the director. Jesse stood, glued to his spot, watching her go. The door slammed shut and whispers erupted behind him. But the acoustics in the theater were unparalleled, so he heard every word they uttered as he walked toward the stairs.

"What a brush off-"

"He's loosing his touch-"

"We've gotta get her back for that one-"

Throwing himself back onstage, Jesse walked over to the Grand piano and slammed his fist down on the keys several times. The cacophonic sound immediately silenced the choir.

"Are we going to run this number or not?" he asked, folding his arms and staring at his fellow performers.

Quirking on eyebrow, he watched them all stare blankly at him for a moment before scattering into their opening positions.

"That's what I thought," he muttered before striking the opening chord and starting the song.

Delilah avoided him avidly for the following twenty-four hours. When she saw him exiting the theater, swiveling his head around to seek her out, she ducked behind a sports drink machine and hid. The next morning, she parked three blocks away and walked to school so she wouldn't meet up with him in the parking lot. All that day, she found herself creeping to class and hiding herself from him.

But at last, when she hid behind a costume rack backstage at a Vocal Adrenaline's rehearsal, he caught up with her. Stepping up so close to her that she could smell his mouth wash, he quirked one eyebrow at her.

"Avoiding me?"

Taking a small, clumsy step backward from him, she tried to deny it.

"Why would I avoid you?"

He stepped toward her once more, this time placing his hand on her shoulder to hold her in place.

"I don't know."

Jesse paused as he brushed his thumb over a small part of her collar bone.

"Maybe because you're afraid I might ask you to go out with me again?"

Delilah gulped, but refused to say anything.

"You've got to give me an answer, Lilah."

She looked down.

"You know my answer."

He chuckled.

"Well," he began, tilting her head up so her eyes met hers.

A moment passed between them.

"Maybe that's not a good enough answer for me."

Pushing his hand away from her face, she sighed.

"I have to work tonight."

Then, Jesse watched her sneak through the costumes and away from him. He smiled and dug in his back pocket for his cellphone. Hitting the speed dial, he called Shelby first. She picked up on the first ring.

"Jesse. Aren't you still on campus?"

He whispered, afraid Delilah was near.

"I'm going to need a favor, Ms. Corcoran."

Jesse heard the intrigue in her voice.

"I'm listening."

A clear picture of what he was going to do swirling in his head, he began,

"Can we arrange something for tonight?"

She parried,

"Is this about Delilah?"

Jesse confirmed it.

"Yes. I want to do something special for her."


	7. Chapter 7

**Reading is great. Alerting is fine. PLEASE review. This chapter took forever because of the lack of last chapter's reviews! Enjoy!**

Three hours drug past, and Jesse sat alone in the rehearsal studio. His foot twitched impatiently below the table, letting an annoying _tap-tap-tap_ resound through the room and he checked his watch with a sigh. Ms. Corcoran promised him that Delilah would arrive no later than eight. Jesse watched as the hands on his Rolex ticked toward eight forty-five.

"Dammit," he muttered.

His eyes darted around the room. The card table he placed in the center of the room was adorned with a spotless white tablecloth, small white candles, each blazing with light, and flowers. Soft instrumental versions of classic Sondheim songs played in the background, reeling from a stereo in the corner of the room. Ms. Corcoran called in for food from one of their many sponsors, so the entire table tastefully overflowed with the delicacies. Jesse even stooped to use the school showers for the occasion, changing from his rehearsal clothes into his favorite dark jeans and a dark button up shirt.

"Screw it," Jesse said, rising from his chair.

The boy knew she would never show up. He blew out the candles and crossed to the stereo. Ripping his CD out and putting it back into the case, he wanted to scream. But, knowing that it would damage his vocal chords, he resisted. He returned to the table and checked his watch once more. Eight fifty. Jesse ran his hands through his hair and ground his teeth together with a groan. Releasing his anger, he reached out for the plates of food, intent on throwing them out.

"Ms. Corcoran?" a voice asked as the studio door swung open.

Jesse spun on his heel, his face lighting up.

"Lilah!" he nearly breathed.

She closed her eyes and counted to ten.

"Where is Ms. Corcoran?" she asked, not looking up at him.

He fought the urge to laugh at her.

"She isn't here," he said, allowing his smile to cover his entire face.

Delilah groaned.

"Was this a really elaborate set-up that I just walked into?"

The girl threw her face into her hands.

"No," he chuckled, walking over to her.

He pulled her hands away from her face.

"You shouldn't do that. It hides your beautiful eyes."

She rolled those 'beautiful eyes'.

"I have to go," she spit out, turning to go.

The girl tried to leave, but Jesse held fast to her hands, giving them a gentle, encouraging squeeze.

"Why don't you stay here?" he asked, quirking his eyebrow.

Shaking her head, she tried to pull away. He held on.

"Please, Lilah."

A long silence stretched between the two. Delilah feared that he could hear her heart pound in her chest. She refused to let her eyes wander up to his face.

"You have to promise me something," she said, not looking up from their intertwined hands.

He felt his heart lurch in his chest and it surged with hope.

"Anything," he said, smiling.

Despite her better judgement, she looked up to meet his eyes.

"If I stay, you leave me alone after tonight."

He pulled his hands away. He wanted to scream at her. He wanted to knock some sense into her. He wanted to yell at her and tell her who had kept them from dousing her in paint. Remind her who returned her shoes when they stole them. Tell her how he kept them from dismantling her motorcycle and stealing the ignition. But he didn't. He merely sighed and remembered what his mother always taught him. You catch more flies with honey than with vinegar.

"If that's what you want."

Jesse kept smiling at her.

"Just give me a second. I had this whole thing set up," he fumbled, awkwardly chuckling.

He cringed at what came out of his mouth. Where was the confident, winning Jesse St. James?

"Fine," she said.

Taking her by the shoulders, he spun her around so she didn't face the room. Scuffling about, he relit the candles, set the plates back, and turned the CD player on once more.

"You can turn around now."

She wasted no time.

"Why are you doing this?" she inquired.

Jesse chuckled and took her hand, leading her over to the table.

"Just be nice for one night. Then I'll leave you alone."

As much as it pained him to let those words leave his lips, he knew it was the only way to make her stay.

"Fine," she nearly huffed.

The boy lithely pulled out the chair for her.

"I can get my own chair," she mumbled, looking at the floor.

Nearly rolling his eyes, he smiled at her stubborn attitude.

"I know you can."

He motioned that she should sit down.

"But I want to do this for you."

She avoided his gaze.

"Please?" he muttered.

For, what seemed to Jesse, the first time ever, she looked up at him of her own accord.

"Okay," she said, a new feeling rising in her chest by the look in his eyes.

She looked down at the chair, then up at the ceiling before finally sitting down.

"What was that about?" Jesse asked, referring to her caution.

Delilah shook out her napkin and placed it on her lap.

"I was checking for a paint bucket above the chair and tacks in the chair."

He shot her a confused look.

"I still don't trust you yet," she smirked, looking at him over the brim of her glass as she took a long sip of her drink.

"Good to know," he said.

And thus, their first date began.

* * *

**Ooooh! Jesse/Lilah cuteness! Please read and review! it means the world to me! And it makes me write faster!**


	8. Chapter 8

**Please read and review!**

* * *

Jesse fought the nerves building inside him as he looked across the table to the girl sitting there. The candlelight flickered in her eyes as she nervously looked down at her hands.

"You look nice," he said, not really thinking before he did.

Dressed in a pair of gym shorts and a tee shirt- her work clothes- she knew better.

"I look like hell," she snapped.

The fiery look that blazed across her face illuminated it, breathing life into every feature.

"You look beautiful to me."

Fighting the urge to roll her eyes, Delilah looked down at her food.

"Can we eat now? I'm starved," she asked.

He nodded.

"Of course."

For a few moments, they ate in quiet peace.

"So-" he began, looking up at her, "Tell me about yourself."

Delilah contemplated for a long second, mulling over the possibility. She eyed him suspiciously, not entirely sure yet what he wanted from her.

"What do you want to know?" she asked.

Smiling his winning smile at her, Jesse felt a surge of hope. She was finally playing along.

"Anything," he responded.

The girl shrugged casually.

"There isn't much to tell."

Candle light slowly died down, casting a ghostly glow over the girl's bruised skin. Jesse fought a shiver at the sight of it. He struggled, trying not to mention them, but he couldn't resist trying to get more information from her.

"What about your brother?"

Heat rushed Delilah's face.

"I think we're done here," she said, rising from her seat and throwing her napkin on the table in frustration.

Walking away, she picked up her coat.

"Oh, and the duck is undercooked," Delilah threw behind her.

When she got to the door, his voice rang out to her ears.

"What do you think is going on here?" he asked, standing from his seat.

Turning slowly, she looked back at him.

"You're using me to get the secrets from Puck, aren't you?"

Jesse could not help himself. He laughed. Uproariously. Uncontrollably. A stomach-grabbing, side splitting laughter wracked him.

"Why are you laughing?"

He straightened, still chuckling.

"You really think I need to commit show choir espionage to get ahead?"

She refused to even turn around.

"It isn't below you. And you probably think it would be better for your image after your little bout with New Directions last semester."

Behind her, Delilah heard some rustling.

"Turn around," he commanded.

Without even thinking, she spun around. She cringed at the tone in his voice. Looking up at him, she barely even tried to hide the fear lurking in her eyes. Jesse immediately softened.

"I'm sorry," he said, with a smile.

Delilah relaxed a bit.

"You think I need to try to get in good with Vocal Adrenaline?"

She nodded.

"Here."

He shoved his phone in her hands.

"Look at that and see if my reputation is hurting any."

Looking down, she scrolled through text invitations to parties, girls asking him out on dates, and messages from Mrs. Corcoran about new solos for him. Nothing seemed out of order in his life.

"Still think I need a popularity boost?"

Both of them chuckled.

"I guess not," she said, handing him his phone back.

As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he reached out and took her hand. Leading her back to the table, he mentally sighed. _Dodged a bullet there._

"Oh, and I wasn't being serious about the duck. It's actually really good."

He smiled.

"I didn't take it personally. Oh, and you really need to work on your storm-out technique. You haven't had a successful one yet."

She struggled to not look in his eyes. The way his smile echoed in his eyes gave her butterflies, but she couldn't have that.

"_This isn't real,"_ she thought to herself, adamantly.

She knew he wasn't really interested in her. Though she wanted to believe he actually liked her, she knew better.

"Why don't I start with the family stuff this time?"

Delilah spoke before she even thought.

"I'm not entirely interested in hearing about your absently drunk mother and your disappearing father," she muttered.

It took Jesse a long moment before he could recover from the shock.

"Well, you're right about the father part," he said, a breath-like chuckle escaping from his lips.

Trying to swallow the feeling that she said something wrong, Delilah chuckled right back.

"He never stops working. I can't remember the last time that he went to see one of my performances."

Opening her mouth to apologize, Delilah mentally cursed herself for her dumb remark.

"Don't worry. I've gotten over it," he commented mildly.

Pushing away the feeling he always got when he thought about his family, Jesse beamed at her.

"Now it's your turn."

She shook her head, checking her watch.

"I've really got to get home."

Jesse smirked.

"You aren't going to turn into a pumpkin at midnight, are you?"

Meaning no nonsense, she stood.

"I won't, but my bike might. Thank you for the dinner. My dad is going to kill me if I'm late."

The boy grabbed her hand once more, walking out of the building alongside her.

"Why don't I drive you home? We can put your bike in the Vocal Adrenaline garage," he said once they were out in the parking lot.

Delilah shook her head.

"I'm going to need the bike this weekend."

Jesse struggled to stay light-hearted.

"Well, then, I'll bring it to you tomorrow."

She looked between his car and her bike.

"Why are you doing this?" she snapped, "I don't even like you."

They both knew it was a lie. The boy smirked.

"Because there is absolutely no fun in dating girls who actually like me."

A beat of silence passed between them.

"Do you want a ride or not?"

Delilah nodded.

"Just this once, though."

* * *

**Please read and review!**


	9. Chapter 9

**Long time, no update, huh? Thanks for coming back and reading! I hope you enjoy and most importantly REVIEW! Updates stopped coming because the reviews were not coming in and I thought that no one wanted to read this! Thanks to the Tumblr anon who encouraged me to update and give it another shot! Please review!**

* * *

Jesse reached for her hand, trying to take it in his. She slyly pulled it away, refusing to let him get even a bit close. Shoving the appendages into her pockets, Delilah bit her lip and glued her eyes to the ground as they walked to his car. Silence pulled between them, being filled only by Jesse's eventual humming. The tune was unfamiliar to her, but it was somewhat comforting all the same. His confidence in it and his peace in it allowed her to let the song fill her up as she trotted along side him. The only car left in the lot was Jesse's, while Delilah's bike stood pathetically next to it.

"I'll strap this up to the top of my car, that way you'll have it when you need this weekend, okay?"

Delilah shrugged and moved over to it, gently wheeling it in his direction.

"Whatever," she said.

Jesse dug through his car and found strapping cables. In the time it took Delilah, he had the thing strung up.

"You ready?" He asked.

Smoothly, he pulled his keys out and Delilah looked up from the pavement at the sound of the Range Rover's unlocking mechanism. Jesse reassured her with a smile, crossing around her to open the passenger seat.

"Am I supposed to be impressed by that, Casanova?" She asked wryly.

A laughed escaped Jesse and his eyes lit up at her sassiness. He shrugged sarcastically.

"You have my permission to be impressed if you like," he said.

The girl rolled her eyes, but slid into the car nonetheless. Jesse materialized behind her, blushing as she looked around.

"I'm sorry about the mess," he commented bashfully as he struggled to clean up the piles of sheet music scattered around the car.

Waving him away, Delilah shook her head and held the papers in her lap.

"Don't worry about it. I'm used to mess."

Flashing her a thankful smile, Jesse pushed the keys in the ignition and sped out of the parking lot.

_Someday, I'm gonna do you wrong._

_Someday, I'll leave you all blue!_

_Someday, I'm gonna steal your heart._

_Someday, I'll rip it right in two-_

A woman's voice poured from the killer stereosytem, the lyrics echoing every one of Delilah's fears about Jesse. She looked over at him, listening as he harmonized to the woman's voice.

_So, let's just say we got today!_

_Let's just say we got today-_

Delilah sighed and tried to break the spell his voice cast over her. She reached her hand out toward the CD volume.

"Can I turn this off?" She asked, somewhat timidly.

In her brother's car, the radio belonged to no one by Puck. If you so much as looked at the radio wrong, it could cost you a hand. Jesse merely blinded her with a confused smile.

"Only if you're prepared to talk instead of listen to me croon."

With a sigh of relief, Delilah quickly shut the singer's voice off.

"Not a big _Memphis_ fan?" He asked.

She shrugged and shook her head as she plugged her address into his GPS system.

"Just not a big music fan," Delilah replied.

The GPS murmured something about calculating routes, while Jesse fell into stunned silence. His jaw looked like it could drag across the ground where they not in a car.

"You don't like music?" He asked after a moment of silence.

Delilah sighed and pulled her legs up to her chest. Her eyes turned to look at him, taking in his reaction carefully.

"Not really."

Jesse suddenly felt a surge of a new emotion: guilt. He stuck the one girl in the entire universe who had an aversion to music in a position that demanded she listen to it nearly all day. He tried to cover up his feelings with a chuckle.

"I guess this job is hell for you, then," he joked.

She laughed and nodded.

"Sometimes. But not because of the music."

This intrigued him.

"What makes it hell, then?" he asked.

Her eyes looked up at him, stripped down and bare.

"You want honesty?"

Jesse laughed lightly and nodded.

"Always."

Delilah looked away from him and to the road.

"It's really the people."

This hurt Jesse more than he thought it would.

"Me?" he asked, bracing himself for the worst.

To his surprise, she laughed. He found that he liked the sound.

"Actually, not you. You make things interesting. Always interesting."

Heart swelling with pride, Jesse nodded to himself minutely. Inside, a small part of him danced in celebration. He was, slowly but surely, winning ground with this girl.

"You don't have to look so smug about it, St. James," she teased lightly.

Smirking, Jesse snuck a look at the girl. A smile played on her lips as she looked out his dark, tinted window. Suddenly, he himself looked out of the window and realized where they were.

"Where is this stupid thing taking us?" he asked, more to himself than anything, as he looked at the GPS.

Delilah, sensing his distress, looked up at him.

"We're going the right way."

Confusion swept Jesse.

"But this is Mill country," Jesse said, seeing the smoke rising up from the steel mills in the distance. This was the poor part of the county. The poorest part, actually.

The girl beside him gulped and suddenly flushed in embarrassment.

"If it bothers you, I can just walk the rest of the way-"

Jesse scoffed.

"Absolutely not," he said, driving on.

And as the boy drove through her part of town, her mother's words echoed in her head: _This one's a keeper._

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**Thank you for reading! Please review! It means the world to me!**


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